Give Me the Night
by f1manoz
Summary: One-shot. Commander Shepard needed time to himself, to simply unwind and not think about everything on his plate. Just five minutes was all he wanted. At the same time, a reporter who had continually given him a hard time searched the same bar to drown her own sorrows, trying to forget everything she had seen. An unlikely connection is kindled when they meet.


_So, never written a one-shot. While I'm writing my regular stories (the Promises saga), sometimes my mind will drift and I'll think 'I wonder if a relationship between these two would work.' Already have something developing with Shepard and Chakwas. Figured I'd try someone else even more left field._

* * *

She entered the bar alone. No music played. The only sounds were the light hum of quiet conversation and the occasional clink of glass. The lights were turned down low. Many people likely wanted privacy. To be alone with their thoughts. Or just their drinks. Perhaps they even wanted to cry. She knew she wanted to simply break down at times. The news continuing to filter through dashed any hope of victory. Earth had fallen. Palaven was teetering on the brink. And now Thessia. If the asari home-world could fall to the Reapers, what hope did anyone have? Little wonder people wanted to drink. It was almost the end of days.

There were events on the Citadel itself. Parts were still burning after the Cerberus attack. The Council were safe, though the human Councillor was now dead. A traitor to the Council. A traitor to the Alliance. A traitor to humanity. She was glad he was dead. She'd never like him. There was always something… off about him. And she'd been proven correct. At least Anderson, in his own way, had fought on the side of humanity's interests, instead of selling them down the river by allying with a terrorist organisation.

And then there was the Commander. She'd had numerous run-ins with him before. Sometimes she thought he simply wanted to knock her block off. But he never did. He was always polite, even charming at times. He answered every question, every query she had. She almost felt guilty the way she questioned him in the embassy after hearing of his escape from Earth after the arrival of the Reapers. She knew it was almost unfair on him. He was only one man. What could he have possibly done to help? Die along with the millions, if not billions of others? Instead of storming off, he'd almost consoled her, supported her right to ask the hard questions. She was startled at his reaction.

She wasn't privy to what exactly he was doing. Rumours were he was behind the krogan now helping the turians. There were rumours of a genophage cure. Then there was the peace between the geth and the quarians. That was simply astounding. Three hundred years of war ended in an instant. And apparently he was the lynchpin of their success. She knew they had not always seen eye to eye, thinking there was always an agenda behind what he was doing. Whether it was the Council. Or Cerberus. She knew now that she was wrong.

She took a seat on a stool at the bar, ordering a glass of whiskey. She needed something to take the edge off after the news of Thessia filtered through. The feeds that had filtered through… She shuddered to herself again. Reminders of what she'd seen of Earth. Reminds of the destruction of Palaven. Reminds of the destruction taking place all over the galaxy. The fighting continued on worlds throughout the galaxy, though to call it war was incorrect. It was a harvest. Annihilation.

Extinction.

She barely looked up as she sipped at her glass. Barely listened into the conversations nearby. She wasn't on the job. And didn't particularly feel like talking to anyone. She just wanted to clear her mind of everything. And, if possible, get quietly drunk, go home and perhaps cry herself to sleep. Then she'd go back to work in the morning. Another day closer to the end.

Then she heard his voice. She leaned forward, looking to her right. He was sat about half a dozen stools away, head in his hands, and a glass in front of him. He looked unaccompanied. And exhausted. Even lonely. He seemed to sense her stare, as he looked up and across and their eyes met. She noticed him sigh slightly. She thought he would get up straight away and leave. But he didn't. Instead he gestured to the bartender and simply raised two fingers. Then he looked at her again. No gesture with hand or eyes. But the invitation was clear.

She had to admit her surprise as she took a deep breath and found herself walking towards the empty stool to his left. He watched her progress. He stayed silent, though kicked the stool back slightly with his left foot. She figured it was a gesture for her to take a seat. As gracefully as possible she lifted herself up and sat herself down. The bartender placed a glass in front of her and a glass in front of him.

"Commander."

"You on the job?"

She shook her head. "Not tonight."

"Then call me Shepard."

"Khalisah. You remember me?"

A slight smirk. "How could I forget? Our meetings are always… interesting. Yes, that's the word I would use."

He chuckled as he sipped on his glass. She sipped at her own and couldn't help but look at him. She noticed the vaguely distant look in his eyes. From those alone, she knew he was exhausted beyond belief. But had also seen things she could not even imagine. Not quite the thousand yard stare, but close enough. She ran an eye down over his uniform. She'd never really taken the time to even get to know him, let alone just look at him. She raised her eyes to notice he was looking at her again. She felt her cheeks flush, feeling that she was caught checking him out.

"Come here often?" He immediately sighed. "God that sounded like a bad pick-up line." He feigned banging his head on the bar in front of him.

"Just needed a drink."

"You and me both."

"You're here alone?" she asked, trying to keep the surprise out of her tone.

He shrugged. "My crew are busy at the moment doing their own thing. I just wanted five minutes to myself. Can't remember the last time I had that. It's not going to be enough to unwind and completely relax, but I thought a couple of drinks here might help before I head off again."

"Oh, if I'm interrupting, I'll…"

She made to get up. He reached out and immediately grabbed her hand. His hands were rough, but his touch was gentle. "No, I wasn't saying go. I actually wouldn't mind the company." She felt her cheeks flush again at his touch. So unexpected. He seemed to notice, letting go of her hand. "Sorry. Just… you don't have to go."

"Even my company?"

He shrugged, taking another sip from his glass. "Sure, why not? An attractive and intelligent woman to talk to for a while. That would just feel… normal. Don't know what normal feels like anymore." She'd stopped really listening after 'attractive and intelligent'. She knew her eyes opened in shock at those words. He glanced at her, noticing her silence. "I say something wrong?"

"Ah, no, Shepard. Just…" She trailed off. "You just said I was…"

He turned to look at her, their eyes meeting for a second. Then his eyes lowered for a moment before raising to meet her eyes. "Sure. What, you think I'm going to let a couple of interviews cloud my judgement?" He shrugged. "You were just doing your job. I don't even really know you apart from that."

"What would you like to know?"

He appeared surprised by that one. "Well… um…"

She chuckled as he stumbled over himself. She looked around the bar. "You want to grab an empty booth? Bit of privacy? We can… talk." She knew that shocked him as his eyes widened slightly in surprise. Then a slight smile.

"Sure."

He ordered another couple of drinks before they moved, feeling his eyes on her as she led the way through the crowd, finding an empty booth towards the rear of the bar. The booth was enough to fit at least four people, a solitary light above the table leaving the rest of the booth in relative darkness. She sat down first, scooting around. She was surprised as he sat down and moved across to sit barely inches away from her. He placed two glasses in front of them.

"What would you like to talk about?" he asked.

"Anything but…"

"Still off the record?"

"I'm not a reporter tonight."

So they talked about the most arbitrary of topics, avoiding anything to do with the Reapers and the war taking place across the galaxy. As the minutes passed into hours, she found herself smiling more and more. Her original conceptions about the man were completely wrong. Undoubtedly intelligent. Incredibly charming. She found him so easy to talk to. She hung on his every word. He appeared just as interested in her as they continued to converse. He sat, gazing with a slight smile, as she talked about her childhood, growing up on Earth, her early days in journalism, her current position now, her hopes and her regrets. Everything of which appeared dull in comparison to whatever he was doing now. But he listened to every word. The number of glasses on the table growing as the night wore on. She wasn't drunk, but she noticed the gaze had changed slightly. She knew she was feeling… different about him.

"So, Shepard…"

He must have heard the change in tone. Or just made one hell of an assumption. She watched him raise a hand as he gently cupped her cheek, closing her eyes as his thumb gently rubbed against it. Then he leaned forward and kissed her. She knew she melted into him as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as possible. She felt dizzy at the thought that she was actually kissing Commander Shepard. A man she thought should have wanted nothing to do with her. She lost track of how long they kissed, only breaking when the lights turned on bright and the bartender announced it was closing time.

She finally broke off and pulled back, trying to gather her breath. She looked at him. She didn't think he looked smug. More… content. Even happy. Certainly a change from the man she saw when she first noticed him in the bar. He leaned in again. "How would like a tour of one of the most advance warships in the Alliance Navy?"

"Huh?"

"We're not departing until 09:00 tomorrow morning. And I'd like your company for a while longer."

The insinuation was clear. "Absolutely," she declared.

There was no real tour as they headed straight to his cabin. He took his time undressing her, as if savouring every moment. Every touch. Every caress. Every kiss. Knowing that he would be off again in a few hours, into the fray once again. A few more hours of normality. She knew that is all he wanted. All she wanted. Not having to think about anything happening out there. He explored her body, leaving her gasping for air at times. She was amazed at how gentle he was, completely the opposite of the man she figured he'd be on the battlefield. She knew he took his time, held himself back, trying to make it last as long as possible. She explored his body. His arms exuded strength and power. His chest and stomach was toned. His back rippled. She could feel the scars all over his body. She wrapped her legs around him, beckoning him on. There were gasps. Deep breaths. Moans.

And then they slept, wrapped in his arms.

She awoke before him, an arm draped across his chest. She thought she should be lying there, feeling completely awkward. Instead, she felt… She wasn't sure. It was a strange feeling. She noticed him wake up, rubbing his eyes then look at her. He noticed the slight smile. A finger placed under her chain and another kiss.

"Breakfast?"

"Sure."

They spent time trying to find all their clothes, ripped off in their haste. Finally dressed, she descended with him to the mess. She knew this was going to be awkward. He seemed to sense her nerves.

"Don't worry about it. We can be honest, if you want. I don't really mind." She blushed slightly. He just grabbed her hand. "We're two adults who did nothing wrong. Far as I'm concerned, I had a great night. Some delightful company. And a fantastic evening all round. Far, far better than anything I could have hoped for."

She just looked at him with what she knew was a broad grin. "Okay."

She accompanied him into the mess, one of his hands laying gently on her back. The mess descended into silence as they appeared. She looked around, immediately recognising Diana Allers, who looked at her with daggers in her eyes. She had a vague idea of who the rest were, though putting faces to names would be impossible. Heads and eyes moved between her and Shepard beside her. There was no missing the stunned expressions on their faces. He ignored them all, simply guiding her to a seat and disappeared for a few seconds to get their breakfast.

Normality was quickly broken by a voice over the comm. The _Normandy_ would be departing shortly. The mess emptied as crew headed to their stations. She accompanied Shepard back up a level, walking through the CIC, noticing more stares as she walked by. The pilot turned around as they approached.

"Whoa! Commander, what the hell is going on here?"

"None of your business, Joker."

Joker looked between the pair. "Hang on, you didn't…" She felt her cheeks flush. "You did!"

"Can it, Joker. Prepare the Normandy for departure. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Aye-aye, Commander," Joker replied, turning his chair around.

He kissed her again in the waiting area before holding her close to him, feeling his arms hold her as tightly as possible. Such a strange feeling, but already so normal. She knew he was taking these last few moments of normalcy. She just felt silly as she could actually feel moisture build up in her eyes. One night, and she was already attached. Little wonder, though. Now she knew what they talked about when it came to him. Charming. Brave. Intelligent. Why hadn't she seen it sooner?

"Commander, we have to go," called a voice from behind.

He just nodded as he loosened his hold, moving her hands to his side. He raised a hand, wiping away the tear rolling down her cheek. "When will you back?" she asked hopefully.

"I don't know…" She nodded. She knew he probably couldn't say what he was doing. "But I may be able to return after this mission. At least for a while."

She nodded silently. He kissed her again. And then he was gone. He didn't say goodbye. And neither did she. She wasn't sure what to say. Goodbye? See you later? Catch you next time? Nothing seemed right. "Shepard," she called out. He turned just as he was about to disappear down the docking cradle. "Just… Come back alive. Please."

He nodded. Then the doors closed. And he was gone. She stood at the window as she noticed the ships engines finally fire and the _Normandy_ started to reverse. It turned slowly, its engines glowing a glorious blue, before it started to accelerate and eventually it disappeared from view. She sighed to herself as she turned and disappeared into the crowd.


End file.
